


Baby Makes Three

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron and Hermione await the birth of their first child.





	Baby Makes Three

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

           We will soon be a family of three.  Hermione just snapped at me to stop staring at her.  I know she’s tired of waiting.  It’s been a long nine months for her, and for me as well.

            She’s now so large that she has to sleep propped against pillows, as lying down produces nausea.  After a final trip to the bathroom, she climbs into bed and I help her get settled.  Once her pillows are arranged just so, with an extra one at her feet, I slide in next to her.  Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, she has to get up again and it’s all to do over. 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

            For a while, we weren’t sure if she’d be able to conceive.  There was a possibility of damage from the Cruciatus Curse.  It didn’t help that other Weasley grandchildren were arriving like clockwork, or that Mum never stopped asking when it would be our turn.   

           Then came the day Hermione flew into my arms when I arrived home from work.  Even before she told me, I knew.  She had a glow that would have lit up the Forbidden Forest.           

           Morning sickness kicked in almost immediately.  The first time I held Hermione’s head over the toilet, I got sick in the sink.  Dry toast and tea were Mum’s sworn remedy for morning sickness.  I had Hermione fix me some as soon as she felt better. 

            Ginny loaned Hermione some maternity clothing, but had to ask for it back.  My sister’s second pregnancy caught her and Harry by surprise.  Usually it was Hermione who gave advice, but this time she was on the receiving end.  Ginny filled her in on what to expect.  Harry and I played wizard’s chess in the lounge while they talked in the kitchen.  I couldn’t resist eavesdropping and came away blushing.  I _so_ did not need to know that Ginny and Harry were “back at it” just three weeks after James’s birth.  No wonder she’s pregnant again.

            In time, the morning sickness was replaced by mood swings and crying jags.  Nothing I said or did was right.  If I tried to hug Hermione, she pushed me away.  The next minute, she accused me of not loving her anymore.  I sent her flowers, which brought on tearful speculation about what I’d been up to behind her back.

            She was meticulous about eating a healthy diet; clearing our cupboards of chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes.  Trying to be funny, I joked that she drank so much milk, it was a wonder she didn’t start mooing.  Almost immediately, I discovered three things:  (a) pregnant women and jokes do not mix; (b) especially if said jokes contain a comparison to anything bovine; and (c) I do not look good wearing antlers.

            Ginny organized a baby shower for Hermione.  I came home just as it was breaking up.  There was one gift I didn’t recognize.  It looked like a medieval torture device.  The room exploded with laughter when I asked what it was.  Even when they told me, I still didn’t get it.  Why would a baby need a breast pump?  

            One thing that saddened me was Hermione’s strained relationship with her mother.  Mrs. Granger had always been somewhat jealous of Hermione’s deep affection for my mother.  Like most people, Hermione found Mum very easy to talk to.  Mrs. Granger was more reserved and often came across as aloof.  She and Hermione loved each other, but they always seemed to be butting heads over something.  

            I didn’t know until Hermione became pregnant that she was raised by a nanny.  Mrs. Granger went back to work as soon as she could after Hermione’s birth.  She was with Hermione at night and on weekends, of course, but “Nanny” provided most of Hermione’s care until she started at the Muggle primary school.  After that, the Grangers hired a sitter to collect Hermione after school and watch her until they finished work.  Hermione pointed out that most of her mother’s salary went to pay for child care.  

            I wasn't sure what to make of all that.  Mum never worked outside her home; she was always there for us.  Hermione resented not having had her mother available when she needed her.  This issue between them had never quite been resolved. 

            Wisely, I realized there was nothing I could do to make their relationship better.  I hoped  the birth of our child would somehow bring them together.  

            I was a bit worried about how we’d manage on my salary once Hermione stopped working.  She had already made it clear that she intended to stay home with the children until they started at Hogwarts.  That was fine with me; I didn’t want a nanny or sitter taking care of them.  If we had to cut corners, we’d do it.  

            Hermione meant to work until her due date, but she was so uncomfortable once her ninth month began that she gave notice.  Every day before leaving for work, I got her settled in the lounge with whatever she needed; mostly books.  Luckily, there was a half-bath just off the kitchen.  I didn’t want her going up and down the stairs while she was alone in the house. 

 ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

            I overslept the next morning.  Hermione was already awake, waiting impatiently for me to help her into the shower.  There wasn’t room for both of us, so I washed up at the sink and brushed my teeth.  I also fire-called Harry to let him know I’d be a bit late.  

            “Everything okay?” he asked.  

            “Fine,” I assured him.

            Hermione winced as I guided her onto the bathmat. 

            “My back hurts,” she grumbled, reaching for a towel.  “It must be from sitting up all night.  I never can get comfortable.”

            “It won’t be for much longer,” I reminded her.  “Want me to give you a massage before I leave?”

            “No, I think heat would be better.  Mother has a heating pad; I’ll ask her to bring it over.”

            She didn’t want breakfast, saying she felt a bit queasy.  I made her promise to fire-call me if she didn’t feel better soon.  Before taking my leave, I made sure the pot of Floo powder was full and checked to be sure Hermione’s mobile phone was in her pocket.  She used it to keep in touch with her parents.  

            All morning, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.  I fire-called Hermione twice; she was cross and said she didn’t need checking on.  She had telephoned her mother about the heating pad, and Mrs. Granger promised to drop it off on her lunch hour.  Harry urged me to take the day off, but I knew Hermione would say there was no need.  Her due date was still ten days away, and first babies were often late.

            Harry and I walked over to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch.  We had just finished eating when Dad burst in.  I waved to get his attention, and he hurried over to our table. 

            “Ron, you’d better go home,” he announced, pausing to catch his breath.   “Someone fire-called Molly in a panic, but didn’t stay on long enough for her to answer.  She thinks it was Mrs. Granger."

             I was just in time to help Hermione through one last push.  Our beautiful daughter slid into her grandmother’s waiting hands. 

            “Thank you, Mummy,” Hermione whispered, tears of joy streaming down her face.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

            “I’ve never known a first labor to be so short,” Mum said later.  “Thank heavens Mrs. Granger was there when Hermione’s water broke.”

            “Jenna,” my mother-in-law corrected her.  “I had just thrown the powder into the fireplace and shouted your name when Hermione said she had to push.  There wasn’t time to get her upstairs, so I had her lie down on the floor.”

            “Our brand-new rug,” Hermione sighed, but she wasn’t upset.  We exchanged smiles as Rose’s tiny fingers curled around my thumb.   

            “Yes, I’m afraid it will need to be replaced,” Mum agreed.  “Now, you'll need someone to help out for a few days.  I'll go home and pack a few things.”

            “Thank you, but I was hoping Mummy would stay, if she can spare the time from work,” Hermione smiled, reaching for her mother’s hand.  

            “Just try and keep me away,” Mrs. Granger beamed.

            I’m pretty sure it was the first time Hermione had ever called her anything but “Mother.”  

  


End file.
